


Demolition, Lover's Lane

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-04
Updated: 2007-08-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: When the captain disappears, it's Trip and Reed to the rescue--to a couples' spa!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

"He what?!" cried the startled and quickly escalating to enraged Security Officer.

"The Cap'n disappeared Mal. He hooked up with this lady friend and before I knew it they were at a spa together and then...well...he...He uh, disappeared," explained Commander Tucker weakly.

Lieutenant Reed's eyes flared cold fire. Ice blue went to frost periwinkle. "How could you lose the Captain?" he demanded, exasperated. "You're his third in command and dearest friend. How could you just, how could he just..." He spluttered then stopped took a calming breath and continued. "Did you get the local police involved? Have you searched the planet from top to bottom and round to the ends and back again? Have you even contacted the bridge to let T'Pol know what's happened?"

There was dead silence for a moment on the line as Trip blushed shame faced. His own temper beginning to rise.

"Mal, I'm not incompetent you know. You don't need to talk down to me like I'm a complete idiot. Yes, I've gotten the locals involved in the search. We've been looking for twenty-four hours straight. Which is why I am now calling you for help. I can't tell T'Pol I lost the Captain. It's too embarrassing. Just scan the planet and save your lectures for later. Alright?" It was more a statement and command rather than a request.

Malcolm scowled darkly. "Yes, Sir." He growled then snapped the com closed. Hayes and the rest of security watched him walk quickly out of his office in the armory, opening a new channel to the bridge. "Sub-Commander, it appears we will have need of the scanners."

T'Pol tilted her head at an angle and with a nod busily went to work at her computer station. "May I deduce the reason being that Commander Tucker or the Captain may be in trouble?"

"Yes, I believe that would be correct, Sub-Commander. The Captain is missing."

"Scan is in progress, estimated time to finish two hours thirty minutes and twenty seconds."

"Thank you, Sub-Commander."

"We will find the Captain, Lieutenant," she said with all logic and confidence to back her up.

Malcolm smiled grimly. "Yes, yes, we will."

A few hours later, Trip was again back on board _Enterprise_. He was looked sheepish and worried all at the same time.

"Have the scans located him or not?" He demanded, worried for his missing friend.

"Welcome back on board Commander." said Malcolm, calm cold Security officer in control. More Vulcan than human when Malcolm was like this.

Trip sighed. He had known he wouldn't exactly be in Malcolm's good graces but he had hoped cold formality would not be the thing Malcolm would use to chastise him with.

"So far, our scans show nothing. This has us all very concerned. You will have to tell us exactly what happened down their, Commander. And leave no detail out." insisted Reed.

In the Captain's conference room they gathered, Reed, Tucker, T'Pol, Hoshi, Hayes, and Mayweather. Tucker took a calming breathe and then exhaled and took a sip of his water.

"All right, we went down to the planet, we went to look first for information on the Xindi but after a while as you all are aware; the Captain decided perhaps a little rest and relaxation might recharge the vigor for the search and so we were relaxing and then John, the Captain; he met someone and they hit it off real swell and before long she had her hooks into him.

Then she and he went to this couples' counseling place; some retreat or other, you know, the touchy-feely new age, get-in-touch with your emotions and build a better, stronger, relationship kind of thing; you know what I mean?"

No one expected the can of worms that statement opened up for them all in regards to Malcolm Reed. It was a real eye-opener for them all.

Malcolm's eyes turned horrified. "No." he gasped. "Not one of those bloody places. They're a menace! They're brainwash machines." he hissed and shuttered. "I would never have believed other civilizations would have come up with such places."

"Oh come on." said Hoshi, "They're not that bad. My friend went to one of those places and she and her fiancÃ© have benefited from it. They're more understanding and loving of one another and will be getting married any day now."

"Oh good for them." was Reed's acidic remark. "Those places are cults. They brain wash you, take advantage of you, and then they reprogram you into a sissy. I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those places" He said nose twitching into a wrinkle of extreme dislike and distain. "I'd rather be trussed up in nothing but my skivvies and forced to crawl over fire and hot coals, flayed alive for hours on end rather then wind up in one of those places. I tell you. Get in touch with my emotions, hah!" he scoffed.

"Sounds like you've visited one of those places before, eh?" asked Tucker rather nervously. Malcolm's eyes narrowed, he had caught the look in Tucker's eyes and the convulsive little swallow in his throat. The look of a guilty man.

But guilty of what?

What had the Commander concocted this time? What troubles was he about to drag Malcolm Reed into?

"Yes, I have, with an X of mine, Janelle or was it Janice? No, no, no, it was oh yes now I remember she was blonde and I liked her, it was Natalie; or was it Natasha? Oh bloody hell, well you know, yes I went to one of those things. The guy running the place was bloody out of his mind. Smell the flowers he said.

"I did, you know what happened?

"Allergy shock.

"I was allergic to the bloody flowers and the bloody candle scents. I was in Hell. I was almost done in by the experience and she off and left me in a sick bed and ran off with that crazy bugger.

"She said I wasn't open minded enough. She said I didn't care enough for the relationship. She said I was a selfish, cold fish, with a wall so thick no one and nothing, not even sunlight, could break through." he hissed outraged. "Oh yes, I have experience alright. They're all a bunch of whack jobs out to brain wash us with their namby-pamby, nancy-ninny, sissy, emotional displays. I'm a bloody Reed and bloody proud of it and I'm British on top of that, several generations of loyal navy men and women. Emotions, I've got them but I don't cry and whine like what they wanted about it. Those places are a menace."

Every eye was focused on Reed.

Reed blinked turned red in the cheeks then looked down. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go on like that. It was truly a horrible experience. As I was saying before the unexpected diatribe and quite lost my subject; why do you ask, Commander? And something in your eyes tells me that its something I'm not going to like."

"Well, Malcolm, Its just they also have classes for uh....well uh...friends. And I was thinking, since I lost John at that place that you know, you and I should go there, under cover and investigate the place. So I took the liberty of signing us up for a course. It translates into a week's stay. I signed us up under the classes entitled "Relationship Friendship: The building that crumbles or the foundation that's solid." "Anger Management: The fire that destroys or the fire that warms" and last but not least "Hurt: The knife with two edges and how to heal and let that wound go."

Reed blinked, gaped, blinked again. He was speechless.

Tucker then dropped the next part of the bomb as it were. "I thought these were courses for the friendship stuff but actually uh, well, uh, The director only had an opening for a couple...so uh through some uh misunderstandings and some uh...language barriers...well, uh , hey how does the name "Reed-Tucker" sound to you? Or we could call ourselves "Tucker-Reed" or uh...Malcolm, are you alright, that's not a good color for you."

Hoshi began to giggle, Hayes looked morbidly fascinated, and Mayweather had to bite down hard not to join Hoshi in some snickers and giggles of his own. T'Pol was the only one unmoved.

"Now, see here, Commander." Reed protested but couldn't quite come up with an argument. The Captain disappeared at the Spa so it was to the Spa they had to go and if it was the only way then it was the only way.

Discouraged Reed sighed. "Very well. I can see reason. But how are we to pass as a wedded couple in trouble?"

"Just be yourselves." suggested Mayweather.

Hayes gave them both a skeptical look and then nodded in agreement with Mayweather. "Yes, I can see it. You both squabble and act like an old married couple most of the time anyway. I don't see that it will be very hard to pull this off. Just polish your stories a little and be a little more...er uh...(how to put this delicately?) touchy-feely, I guess." He finished lamely.

Reed's eyes turned positively to ice. Tucker put a hand out and rested it on Reed's. "Well, Dar'lin." said the southerner with a particularly startling cozy drawl to his voice that almost made the butterflies take up life in Reed's stomach.

Ice cold eyes defrosted as they looked down at the hand on his hand and into the warm blue of a southern sky. "I think, the Major here, has a point." said Tucker with a winsome grin.

Reed rolled his eyes and quickly yanked his hand away from Tucker's. He was losing ground fast to unsettling, unexplored emotions, and he didn't like it. "I'm British." he argued stiffly.

"So?" enquired Tucker.

"Okay, you have a point, its not that I'm British it's that I am a Reed. We are not very...affectionate people."

"Well," grinned Tucker warmly, "Then we better practice, eh Dar'lin?"

Again with the endearment that made his ears grow warm, he fought the feeling hard. Reed's eyes narrowed but he fought his defensiveness and instead decided to go with humor. "All right, Honey-Bun." He smirked as Tucker's jaw dropped.

"You wouldn't." Protested Tucker. "That's a terrible endearment."

"All right, how about, Honey Bunny?"

Southern warm blue eyes turned fierce with distinct dislike.

"Snookums?"

Eyes narrowed with further irritation. If Tucker had been a cat Reed was sure that by now his ears would have lane flat on his head in pure dislike.

"Sweet'ems?"

A tilt of Tucker's head in consideration.

"Dearheart?"

Further consideration

"Lover?"

"Isn't that just a little too flagrant?" asked Tucker, cheeks finally blushing.

"Well what do you expect? Not even my Father ever called my Mother anything other then Mary at the best of times. Oh, wait, I do recall one time a special occasion or something. He called her Mary-Luv. How about I call you Charlie-luv? How does that sound that's a good endearment. Charles Darling sounds good too...hmmn have to consider some more words."

Trip let his head drop to the table. "I have no one but myself to blame for this." he muttered.

Malcolm smiled well smirked actually. He knew how to push buttons. That's what made him a good security officer and good at interrogation. Push enough and people crack. But really Trip deserved it. How were they supposed to carry this off? What was he thinking?

He supposed since it was the only way to find the Captain they would just have to manage somehow. Hoshi had a point though. They were supposed to be a couple of lovers or married folk on the outs in their marriage. Trip and he argued and fought all the time. It wouldn't be too hard, he supposed, pretending to be married to the man and having troubles in the marriage.

"I take left side." he suddenly said.

"Left side of what?" asked Trip puzzled.

"The bed." he replied smartly. "We're going to have to be sharing unless of course I kick you to the couch." The smirk just got worse.

Trip scowled. "You're really perverse ya know that? I think you're enjoying this way too much." he grumbled.

"Oh luv," said Malcolm getting into character. "You're such a kidder."

"Enjoy it while you can Dar'lin, because once this mission's over so is our marriage."

"Oh, how crushing," said Malcolm with dry humor, a hand thrown over his heart. "You cad you. What was it? My crisp bed corners or the dusting?"

"No, it was the organization of m'filing cabinet." Now Trip smiled. Biting back on his laughter.

"Ouch." laughed Malcolm. "Caught red-handed. All right, enough play. I'll see you at the launch bay once we have our recording devices set and our bags packed."

"Right, there's also a gift shop below we can shop there and pick up some more props and enough clothes for a month's stay."

"Wh-what?" Asked Reed, stunned a new, at this rate he was bound to get whiplash if Tucker had any more surprises in store for him. "A Month? What happened to the week? That's ridiculous. We should only be there as long as it takes to find the Captain. It should, hopefully, only take about a week at the outset, max."

"Mal, we're posing as a couple in marital trouble. We're signed up for the full package. Which means a month minimum." Explained Tucker.

"Oh bloody hell." He muttered darkly, "Kill me now." He sulked.

Trip shrugged. What could he do? It was a signed deal. A contract was a contract after all and the money had already been spent up front. A month was a long time but well worth it if it got their friendship back on track and if they found Johnny.

* * *

Hayes helped Reed prepare the surveillance equipment and implant the listening devices and microscopic cameras into a button on each shirt or item of clothing available. Once the bags were packed the security teams did a last bit of business and meeting.

"I leave this ship in your capable hands, Major." Said Reed formally and once more back in officer mode.

Major Hayes saluted and replied. "Yes sir, thank you sir. We'll keep a close eye on you guys down there."

"Yeah, but not too close I hope." Reed said, ears starting to burn a little. He didn't much care to be in the camera when it was recording. But he knew how important this mission was. If the captain could disappear then so could he or Mr. Tucker and a recording device could easily locate them or at least give enough information for the crew to locate either one of them if things went south.

It was so very disconcerting to have to have his personal life recorded on camera during the mean time. Recording the sessions with the cult people could help them locate the captain or at least figure out who the culprit was. He was uncomfortable with how close and personal everything would soon be. He didn't like the idea that his crew was about to witness some very intimate very personal stuff about himself and mister Tucker. Stuff he wasn't sure he wanted anyone to know least of all his best friend. Those kinds of feelings had no place on board a ship going to war.

He resented Mr Tucker and yet wanted to help him all at the same time. Tucker had pushed him away when he had offered him friendship and support and now this elaborate set-up was going to open up that particular vault all over again and maybe this time let Mr Tucker and the rest of the crew in to some deeply personal places inside of Reed that he didn't want anyone knowing about. Like a river his feelings for Mr Tucker ran deep, deeper than he liked to think about.

Malcolm was dressed in a nice sleek off duty outfit, black and navy, two of his favorite colors that let him hide in the shadows and out of the eye of enemies and civilians alike. Tucker of course was in one of his very loud Hawaiian shirts and white slacks, in other words an eye sore and an inducer of a migraine. Malcolm sighed and put on his shades maybe the dark lenses would protect him from the sight, but from the ache behind his eyes he figured it was too late.

"Did you have to wear that outfit?"

Tucker pouted. "It's my lucky shirt."

"If my memory serves those parrots didn't save you or me from a rather humiliating ordeal on Risa."

"No, but it did help us become better friends." Tucker replied with his usual open grin.

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

Hoshi grinned. "You guys are perfect, just keep that up and no one will suspect what you're really up to."

Both men glowered at her. Huffy, they both then with a sniff walked onto the platform and out of sight, disappearing into the shuttle pod. Everyone wished them good luck then set about making themselves useful on board _Enterprise_ surveying the happenings of the world below them.


	2. Chapter 2

Malcolm didn't like the way the director glomped onto him and from Trip's glare he didn't appreciate the man's mauling of his friend any better than Malcolm liked being mauled.

"You're so closed-off and tense." Said the Director, his hands rubbing Malcolm's forearm in a very uncomfortable, very intimate, way.

Sympathy dripped from his words. But Malcolm didn't feel like he was being sympathized with. He felt like he was being sized up for something distasteful. He tried to yank his arm out from under the director's touch but like an octopus the director held on.

"I don't like to be touched." Reed interrupted rudely. All of his instincts were warning him to get away from the director.

The director didn't bother acknowledging that he had spoken.

"We should get you into the crystal baths immediately and get your auras harmonized. Maybe a little jaunt through the steam caves and then off to a restorative bit of bed rest to get that tension out of your body. Such tension can turn to a toxic level making your physical and emotional health at risk. My guess is you're the worry wart out of the two of you, am I right?"

The director oozed schmooze and tried to make a joke with Malcolm that made Malcolm want to leave the Spa and the director and their mission far behind him. Malcolm didn't know what it was exactly about the man that was getting on his nerves so quickly. He'd dealt with worse propositions in his bar hopping days back when he was a youth.

When the director turned his attentions back to Tucker Malcolm felt a sense of relief that was short lived as the man's hand found another part of his arm to hold on to. He couldn't get a word in to say, "Unhand me, now."

"Ah Charles, you seem quite at ease, your aura's fairly clean but I see some toxic build up. A death in the family perhaps? Poor dear, that kind of pain isn't good to hold on to. We even turn that kind of pain onto others. Poor Malcolm what he must have been feeling every time you turned that pain onto him?

"You will learn here to let that go as well as to build an even stronger, more compassionate, more supportive relationship with your spouse."

Tucker was startled and felt a trickle of unease crawl up his spine. What had that remark been about? Turned on to Malcolm? Had the Director been insinuating that he, Trip Tucker, had been abusing Malcolm? Or had it been something more like a general: you've been in pain and it hurts your friends to see you in this way, kind of statement? Yet he got the feeling the director didn't like him much and liked Malcolm just a little too much.

He quickly threw an arm around Malcolm's waist and gave Malcolm a quick kiss on the temple. "You're right. I've been neglectful of Mal lately, too wrapped up into my own pain. I didn't know how much I was hurting my Darl'n until just recently. That's when we decided to take up one of your courses here." He turned his attentions back onto Malcolm asking. "Right Darl'n?"

Malcolm squirmed as the stranger kept rubbing his hands all over him, he was finally able to get out of the tentacle like reach by melting into Trip's side and latch on to his friend like a life support buoy. Trip's arm around his waist and possessive glare also helped deflect the director's attentive hands.

"Yes, quite right Charles my love." he replied still a little unnerved by the director and grateful for any relief Trip was giving him. "We're here to work out our problems and to make our relationship strong again."

He didn't know what had possessed him to use that terminology but he knew it was something of a point he was making to the director. "I'm in love. I'm with Charles and we plan to be together for the long haul." He'd seen women use this with their rivals. They would put a hand on their husband or boyfriend's arm and use possessive terms like: "mine" and "we" and "our" showing a strong front to the potential and steering the predator female away from their man.

* * *

Hoshi blinked at her screen as did Hayes. Malcolm Reed was acting odd. Hoshi never thought she'd see the day Malcolm Reed latched on to another person, let alone his friend and sometimes conflict inducing yelling match pal, in a way that could be clearly read as fear.

Malcolm Reed was afraid of the man in front of them, not because the man was particularly scary but because the man was trying his damned hardest to touch Malcolm Reed. Reed was very unsettled by it and unsettled by the alien's unceasing attentions. As a linguist body language was one of her languages and she could read the alien's intent or rather discern one of two meanings for his body's language. One could read perhaps an intent for intimacy which Malcolm Reed was fending off. Or it could be read as something other then that, dominance?

Even Tucker was clearly reading the signs and trying to protect his friend from the amorous attentions.

She would have laughed if it hadn't been for Reed's fear. She had seen him cautious but never afraid. He hadn't been afraid when those weird half machine half men had tried to assimilate the crew. He hadn't been afraid when they were about to die on that Klingon vessel when he had the flu. Fear was alien to Reed or so she had always believed but now she wondered.

### Later: Next Day

Malcolm didn't know how the man had talked him into this. He was half unclothed and about to get a massage. Most of what the man was saying went in one ear and out the other but the minute the man's hands were on his skin Malcolm knew he couldn't go through with it.

He kept feeling some sort of crawley sensation, pin pricks running up and down his arms, every time the man touched him. Sensations of trapped and invasion kept popping up. He had never been particularly claustrophobic but every time he was in the same space as this guy he felt it, badly.

"This will relax you and break down some of those barriers you have about you." said Trey'van in that soothing tone that just irritated Malcolm all the more. It felt like the man was talking down to him rather then talking to him as one man to another.

Trey'van blinked as he watched Malcolm scurry very quickly into his clothes and add another layer in the form of a blanket. His eyes were narrowed and suspicious; the barriers were up and powered at one hundred and fifty percent.

"I'd prefer it if it were my Charles giving me such an intimate procedure." insisted Malcolm, stubbornly. Burrowing deeper into the blanket. He wished he'd had more clothes to wear.

Trey'van calmly folded one of the towels and sat in a chair across from Malcolm. He gave Malcolm a look that could almost be called compassionate but something in it rang false with Malcolm, or perhaps it was just the difference in facial structure.

"I understand that you have some reservations as well as some trust issues, my dear Malcolm. May I call you Malcolm?"

"No," Malcolm snapped cattily. "My name is Mr. Tucker-Reed to you, and I would appreciate it if you remembered that."

Trey'van's hand was on his arm, a gentle squeeze supposedly the alien was trying to comfort him but Malcolm flinched away from his touch. No matter how nice the voice seemed or the body language there was just something about Trey'van that set off alarms with Malcolm. Trey'van's manner seemed caring yet at the same time patronizing. For a man who was supposed to be good at his job and help couples in trouble he didn't seem to listen very well. He seemed to have selective hearing.

As he spent more and more time in Trey'van's company Malcolm suspected Trey'van of being a man who would do something for your own good without consulting you first.

He managed to slip his arm free from Trey'van's grasp and requested. "Please don't touch me." He said it firm with little hope that Trey'van would do as he requested.

The alien sighed. "I understand that you do not trust easily. I hear what you are saying Mr. Tucker-Reed. What terrible things you must have endured and survived to be so...so...hurt.

Trey'van's face wasn't easy to read but Malcolm suspected Trey'van had put on his sympathy face to try and sooth Malcolm's unease. Malcolm didn't buy it.

"You are a man with a wound," insisted Trey'van clucking, "A wound that I can see bleeding, its bleeding you dry and slowly killing you. I can help you to heal if you only trust me. No one here is out to harm you in any way. We only want to help you and your spouse to heal."

Malcolm firmly stated, implacable. "I'm not getting undressed."

"Please Mr. Tucker-Reed, this massage will help you. I can direct your inner energies, suffuse you in healing warmth while breaking down the evil toxins that have built up under your skin and is draining the good energies from you. This is the first step to your healing. By lowering your inhibitions and trusting me with your secret self, I can help you."

"No one sees me naked or my inner self except for my husband. I am a loyal, married man, in a deeply committed relationship with my mate and I am not getting undressed so that some man can put his hands on my skin." argued Malcolm mulishly. Eyes blazing. He would not be moved. He didn't like this spa and he didn't like Trey'van.

Somehow the octopus hands were back on his flesh, touching his hands, making him feel strange, like something was trying to push its way into his skin, under his skin and into his mind. He felt fuzzy, woozy, yet he held firm to his resolve. He fought the invasive thing yet he felt very unsettled, like he was falling, losing ground, drowning.

"I hear you. I hear your pain. I hear your suspicions. I hear you, Malcolm." The man's eyes locked onto Malcolm's and something in the gaze was like that of a cobra and its prey, deceptively lolling. Malcolm fought the weird feelings intruding into his mind and yet he lost track of time. When he came to he was unable to quite get his bearings. He didn't know what had happened. He felt on edge.

Malcolm growled, fighting the left over intrusive fuzzy feeling in his head. It was a fight of wills and Malcolm intended to win "Mr. Tucker-Reed, to you."

Trey'van stared into Malcolm's eyes, hands tightly folded over Malcolm's own. "I am going to let this session go, but we will try again tomorrow."

The dizziness was leaving Malcolm, the push thing was slowly ebbing away, but it still left Malcolm feeling edgy, feeling strange, he felt befuddled and almost, he dared almost say, violated.

"Remember Malcolm, this is the first step in the process of your healing. I want to help you, if you let me." With his peace spoken Trey'van let go of Malcolm's hands and did his weird version of an intricate bow, of hands weaving about and head lowered to chest while backing out of the room.

Anxiety led to Malcolm being on the defensive. Malcolm glared then scrambled out of the massage room and headed directly to his and Trip's bedroom. He didn't like feeling this way. This place wasn't right. That Director and his stooges weren't right. There was just something not "right" about this place and if he could find the words to describe what it was that was so wrong with it all he'd have told Trip and found a better way of convincing him to let the mission go, let the locals find the captain and let the two of them get quickly out of dodge.


	3. Chapter 3

Hoshi was concerned as she watched Malcolm on screen, looking terribly affronted and quickly packing his clothes. Tucker came into the room looking thoroughly refreshed and massaged. Malcolm leveled a laser-like glare on his friend. Trip noticing what Malcolm was in the process of packing gaped.

"Malcolm, what the heck are you doing?"

"Packing." One word snapped out.

"Yeah, I can see that. But why?"

"Because I am not a hedonist." He hissed. "And I don't care to get naked and have some tosser put his filthy hands all over me; unlike some I could mention." another pointed glare at Tucker who began to sputter with indignation.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Demanded Trip.

"You know exactly what it means." said Reed, delivering the perfect verbal cut.

Trip sputtered again, his mind froze. He tried to argue the point. It wasn't as if he'd done anything sexual with anyone. He didn't know where any of this was coming from. It almost sounded like Malcolm was jealous and accusing him of cheating on him. He'd done no such thing. He'd been a complete gentleman. He didn't know why his friend would accuse him of such a thing.

Sure he'd had the massage and sure he'd allowed them to cater to his every whim, beverages, sand baths, exquisite food to make even Chef cry in his French sauces. The steam caves and crystal baths had also been a real treat. Malcolm was missing out because of his negative attitude and whose fault was that anyway?

Surely not Trip's.

Despite the seriousness of the situation and her concern Hoshi laughed at the way the two were behaving it was almost a comedy scene between two married people on a TV screen. One jealous of the other and the way people were behaving towards him. The other one naÃ¯ve and oblivious to the things going on right under his nose.

As they fought like two tom cats, each with their hair stiff and claws extended to draw blood. Trip finally calmed down enough to make a valid point and one that was guaranteed to make Reed see reason.

"Hey, what about the Captain? What about our mission?" Tucker demanded.

This stopped Reed dead in his tracks for a moment making him switch gears once more he then returned to packing their suitcase. As he explained "The captain will show up on his own. My job does not include my prostitution of my body. I'm getting the hell out of this place before that wanker tries to get me undressed again."

"Malcolm, don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"No, no, I don't. I know these people Trip. This is all some kind of sham and I will have nothing more to do with it. He plays a good game, very convincing, says he hears me but he doesn't." Reed insisted as he folded and smoothed down one of Trip's shirts. "I don't like that man. His hands on my skin give me the creeps."

Reed was surprised to hear himself being so honest and upfront with his feelings. Actually finding words to express the true unsettling emotions he was feeling was an amazing and thrilling experience, quite like jumping off a cliff and hoping the landing wouldn't end up in death.

"You want to end the mission and leave the Captain to his own devices to survive because you're afraid of your virtue being spoilt?" asked the incredulous commander, yanking his shirt back from Malcolm's folding busy hands.

"Y-no!" Cried Malcolm indignant, defensive. Yanking the shirt back and refolding it with a critical frown. How did Trip expect his shirts to stay unwrinkled with the way he treated them?

"That's not why." explained Reed, taking a pair of boxers next into his hands and folding them into the luggage. He gave the boxers a frown as he saw little cartoons parading about in the image of hearts and betty-boop.

Good lord! Those were tacky. Did Trip not own a single un-tacky pair of clothes or under garments in his possessions? Maybe he could get away with tossing them out an air lock once they were back on _Enterprise_?

Trip seemed to read his mind as he yanked his boxers out of the suitcase and protectively tucked them under his folded arms. Giving Malcolm his best don't mess with my stuff glare.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow then shrugged, they were Trip's under garments he could do with them as he willed, who was he to judge. So they were tacky, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit cute. And they were Trip's after all so he really didn't have any rights to toss them out the nearest window or airlock.

"I know their tricks, Trip." Reed explained calmly, getting his emotions back under control. "I'm not falling for it again. They're tricky bastards who know what to say and what to do to make you trust them. And then as you sign away your life and all of your possessions to them you end up jumping off some cliff somewhere or worse yet; you happily chase after them going from one scam to the next, a devoted, brainwashed happy little toy."

"Malcolm, can we please get back to the point here. We need to do this, for the Captain and for the mission." Seeing that he was talking to a stone wall Trip exploded, exasperated. "And because, goddammit, I already spent the money on this retreat for us!"

Reed looked wounded for a minute then stubbornly went back to packing both their bags.

"Can't you please be reasonable Mal? Don't you want to build a better relationship between us? Don't you want to save the Captain?

Seeing he was still getting no where with Reed he entreated, desperately. "You don't have to and it's not expected of you, as you say, prostitute yourself to save the Captain, Malcolm. No one expects you to do anything you don't want to do. Wear your clothes if you want to. This place is supposed to help you lower your guard not jack it up to one trillion times the usual guardedness you display towards people and your feelings. Insist that you would feel more comfortable fully dressed. This place is about sensitivity Mal, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"You're not listening Commander."

"Trip." hissed Trip.

"Trip, you are not listening to me. That Trey'van guy is a creep. He wont listen to a word I say. And things get weird Trip. I've only had two sessions with the guy and I already feel worse. I don't think this place is going to help us. A guy like that only hears what he wants to hear." Reed insisted helplessly. In the end he knew the decision was Trip's, if he couldn't convince Trip; well then he'd do what had to be done for the mission, for Trip. Because Trip commanded him and he'd do anything for Trip.

Anything.

Trip's hands went to his shoulders and warm blue eyes gazed deeply into his own, eyes torn with compassion and understanding but also determination. Malcolm knew he had no choice. He was being foolish. He needed to get control of his out of control emotions.

"The Captain needs us to find him, Mal. You know that."

He was acting cowardly and he knew it. Malcolm sighed, head hung down in shame. He felt guilt riddled. How could he even think of abandoning the Captain and the mission? This was terribly unlike himself.

"Fine, fine, I'll...I'll do it."

"Thanks Mal, you won't regret it, I promise you."

"I already regret it." he muttered under his breath while refolding and rearranging their clothes back into the closet and shelves. He couldn't help feeling slightly betrayed as well.

He thought if he told Trip what he felt Trip would get it and agree with him and then they could leave this strange place. Trip seemed to understand to some degree but not completely. Trip didn't know what he was asking, the sacrifice he was demanding of him. How could Trip fully understand when not even Malcolm fully realized the extent of what was happening to him.

He went into the bathroom and tried to scrub the sensation of alien hands off of his skin. He tried to keep the sensation of Trip on him longer. Trip's strong grip, warm so warm.

Trip could make dinner tonight Malcolm felt too tired to care.


	4. Chapter 4

Malcolm tried to avoid Trey'van and his many assistants throughout their stay in the community but the blasted alien always found him, always put his hands on him, always something weird pushing gently into his mind; words and visions, memories dancing far out of reach and sliding back into place, memories that were his own made on experiences he remembered and yet somehow not the same memories. They were not the right memories. Parallel memories, false memories planted in his head and yet they couldn't be, it was not possible.

Malcolm paced his rooms, decked out in a loose fitting silk pants and one of Trip's t-shirts. Malcolm felt confused. He needed the comfort of his husband's shirt since Trip was at one of those one on one counseling sessions with Trey'van. He shuttered and hugged his arms close to his chest. He hated those kinds of sessions. He forced the memories of his own sessions out.

Starting with breathing exercises and forcing his body to relax, he started his tai-chi then moved onto an hour of yoga then to contemplation. He looked at the small picture frame on the night stand next to their bed and saw clearly a picture of him and Trip happy, in some green field on some planet somewhere. The sky was purple, the day moon was blue. He remembered the mission yet he also remembered it being his and Trip's anniversary. He frowned this wasn't right. How could he have two memories?

In one set of memories he and Trip were a married couple and had been so for nearly ten years, meeting at the academy working together on the warp five project, family get-togethers, a beautiful marriage ceremony in which Captain Archer had presided over, a huge hu-bla between Admiral Reed and himself. Malcolm was cast out of the family for choosing to marry his male partner and choosing a career not of the Navy. That had been a very painful ordeal.

In the other memories, his truer memories, why they were truer he didn't know, just a feeling really, yet at the same time the memories didn't feel right, just like the other memories had felt true but not as true, they felt right and wrong, the same as his truer memories did. All of his memories felt both right and wrong.

Memories that showed _Enterprise_ and his first meeting with Commander Tucker as something that occurs on his first day of duty. Their fights over the power grids. Their ordeal on Risa and in the jinxed shuttle pod. Memories of friendship not of marriage, wonderful happy memories that felt perfect but off somehow. He wanted to cry he was so confused and his head hurt.

Were they married or weren't they? Was Trip his husband or not? Were they just friends? Why was everything turning out to be so damned confusing?

Bloody migraines. He cursed finished up his meditations then lay down in the bed with a cloth over his eyes and a hypo-spray in his hands, migraine meds should kick in shortly and then he'd feel better soon.

He hoped.

* * *

Hoshi watched Malcolm in his and Trip's room. Watched him move from one routine into another. Watched him move with grace and powerful movements, slow than fast, moving from tai-chi to other forms of martial arts till finally settling into long stretches and poses that were identified as Yoga. His body was beautiful. But she could read in the language that it spoke that he was deeply troubled by something and afraid of it.

But what was it that he was worried and afraid of? Had he found some clue to the Captain's disappearance that he had yet to make a report on? Or was it something more personal, more private than that?

She knew the seminars were getting to both of her fellow officers equally. It seemed to be helping one of them more than the other, or possibly breaking Malcolm down was supposed to help him in the long run. Hoshi had her doubts.

Major Hayes frowned he too was concerned by Reed's progressively getting worse abstract behaviors. Sometimes it seemed Reed was losing his mind or turning into a flake, which Hayes knew for a fact that Reed wasn't if there was one man on board this ship that one could never call a flake it was Reed. The man ate and breathed procedures, routines, and control. His confidence wasn't something shaken lightly. Yet as more and more time passed with the two superior officers on the planet below at the Couples' Spa he could see there was something strange going on. Not just between the two officers but between Reed and the Director as well.

He hoped Reed would make a report soon and explain what was happening to him and the commander.

### A Day Later

It was strange coming out of one of those blackouts he's been having lately. The droning of Trey'van so intimately into his ear. The weight of the man leaning against him. His skin crawled. The hairs on the back of his neck stood stiffly at attention as alarms came full on in his head.

"How he's hurt you. So much pain, so much pain. The universe is so full of pain. I just want to help you Malcolm, please let me help you." Trey'van murmured into his ear, fingers stroked Malcolm's face, his throat, stroking in gentle patterns that were meant to soothe but only agitated Malcolm more.

"First your Father, always you feel so much disappointment from him from in yourself. You're so empathetic, so strangely a tuned to others emotions and well being. You feel a heavy bit of responsibility for others on your shoulders. Do you not?

"Then your mate, he loses his sister, he shut you out, he abused your emotions, Malcolm. He shuts you out, pushes you away, and yet he demands so much of you and yet somehow even with him you feel as if you're a failure.

"When did his love for you turn to so much sour grapes?" asked Trey'van, sounding pitying. Malcolm shuttered and tried not to cry. He was being suffused in heavy emotions of pain and sadness, that couldn't possibly be his own and yet somehow he knew those emotions were his. Yes, he grieved for Trip's sister and for Trip but Trip had never abused him, never.

Alright so there had been that one huge fight and that other time....His thoughts trailed off as images and scenes that had never happened came to him unbidden, whispering of things he rather wished he had left forgotten.

"When did it change? Did he ever love you at all? Really love you at all? Did any of them. I see so many women in your past and they have hurt you as well.

"You give your trust so rarely and they have to work very hard to get it from you but after they've gotten it, gotten your heart, your loyalty your trust what do they do with it? What have they all done with it? They used it against you and betrayed you. They used you and tossed you aside and now you're terrified your mate will do the same. I think you might be right.

"What loyalty has he ever shown you? Kaitama, Ay'len, and nameless others, even some of the female crew. They giver you looks of smug satisfaction. How many women has he slept with behind your back?

"They've had him to themselves, knowing full well that he was yours and he knew he was yours and still what did he do, my dear Malcolm? Your love and loyalty to him is remarkable but wasted.

"He makes demands on you and he expects you to be perfect for him doesn't he?"

Malcolm began to tremble it felt strange to have tears flowing down his cheeks. He was a Reed he knew better then to cry. Tears didn't get a body anywhere in life, tears were nothing.

Trip; Trip you bastard, how could you do such things to me? No, no this isn't right. Trip's not mine. This is an assignment. We're not really married. It's not real.

Yet he saw memories of the happiest day of his life when Charles Trip Tucker the Third had put his wedding band on his finger and pledged undying love and faithful commitment to him. Each vow broken over the years they'd been together. Promises and more promises all of them broken, their marriage was in shambles.

No. No this isn't right. He argued.

That's not me. He denied.

That's not Trip. He insisted.

That's not us!

He was shaking and he couldn't stop crying.

"Why live in denial?" demanded Trey'van jerking Malcolm more tightly into his arms. "Why stay married to a man who doesn't appreciate you?" Asked the snake.

Malcolm jerked out of his hold and shook his head over and over.

Why were there tears on his cheeks? He felt crowded. It was hard to breathe. He began to shake harder and Trey'van's arms were once more around him. Trey'van's mouth on his lips, hands moving down his body. Malcolm jerked out of his hold with more force than previously. He was disgusted, revolted by Trey'van presumptions. He was loyal. He was a married man, and he loved Trip with all of his heart and soul.

He Stumbled staggered away from the bushes and trees that had hidden them from the view of the complex. What insanity had overtaken him when he trusted Trey'van and followed the scum into the woods? Why did he feel so cold?

What time was it?

He looked down at his torn shirt and frowned. What happened to his clothes? Why was he so dirty?

How much time had passed this time? Why did he keep losing time? What was it that he was forgetting?

He fretted, deeply worried and unable to voice why he was so unsettled.

He was a security officer, a master at self defense; no one could hurt him unless he wanted them to.

Why couldn't he seem to protect himself from this bloody Alien? Those creepy hands and those eyes. Every time I look into his eyes. I feel dizzy. I don't feel right. This doesn't feel right.

Why did he keep losing time? Why was it he never felt clean anymore?

Images crowded his mind which he tried to deny. It couldn't have happened that way. It couldn't. He could protect himself. He wouldn't let anyone do that to him unless he had wanted it.

"Trip." He sobbed, out of his depth and terrified. He didn't remember why they had come to the spa in the first place. He didn't want to lose Trip. He never wanted Trip to know what he had done. "Trip, Charles Charles, Trey'van tried to, he tried to" He fell down in the dirt and scraped his knee yet he stood up again and ran for their rooms. He needed to get away from Trey'van. Trey'van had tried to seduce or rape or something. His mind was in a panic, it was getting so hard to think, his brain didn't seem to be working right. He wasn't thinking clearly. It was totally unlike him.

Trey'van was in his mind, he knew it with a certainty yet he had never met a race like his, he couldn't prove his mind had been invaded and his memories arranged. "I belong to Charles. I'm loyal even if Charles isn't. I'll forgive him. I love him. I won't let him leave me. I'll strive for perfection, anything to keep him with me. Anything, oh god, oh god, oh god, don't let him leave me. He mustn't find out. He mustn't find out."

Stupid victim. Shut up! How do you plan to convince him that you're okay if you can't stop crying? He demanded of himself.

* * *

If Trey'van even had an inkling how badly his plans at stealing Malcolm away from Trip Tucker had blown up in his face; he didn't deign to acknowledge it to himself or to his goons. As far as he was concerned it was a matter of time before he would have Malcolm to himself. A Malcolm broken down and remodeled into the perfect mate for himself. Obedient unquestioning and loyal, Malcolm would be his. Under his control, under his power, and Malcolm would love him. He just needed to work a little harder on enforcing that objective. He would need to make sure they were skin to skin again. Delightful how lovely Malcolm's skin felt and his hair.

He was so beautiful.

Beautiful when he was writhing under him, iridescent in his passions.

Trey'van had never had an alien or a fellow M'thra'an who had felt quite like Malcolm did in his arms.

He felt that Malcolm was the right mate for him. The perfect one he'd been searching all of his life for. Easy to manipulate, easy to control, empathic and without a single barrier to keep him from being overrun by Trey'van's own needs and control.

Malcolm was so perfect and Tucker didn't deserve even to kiss the pads on Malcolm's feet. He scowled. He really didn't like Tucker. That man had a hold on the lovely Malcolm like none other that he'd seen before. Usually two people so different and ill suited for one another broke up by the end of the first week. Yet the two were constantly enthralled with one another and constantly devoted to each other. They were both fighting the signals Trey'van implanted in them. He suspected Tucker was a rare breed of the immune whereas Reed simply had a will that was astounding to brush up against. It was too bad no one had trained sweet Malcolm properly to use it to defend against mind-controllers such as himself. His lovely though was breaking and would in the end be his or be dead, whichever came first.


	5. Chapter 5

Charles Trip Tucker the Third had never been so relaxed, not even neural pressure sessions with T'Pol had gotten him this far. Of course sleeping with a warm cuddling while he sleeps bunny like Malcolm seemed to be helping as well.

Of course the first time it had happened Trip had woken up pleasantly enough, a warm body draped across his own, arms wrapped nice and tight around him, a mouth on his neck lightly snoring in his ear, nose digging into his jaw and something hot and gyrating going on at his hip, at first it was okay, a little disturbing sure, but his brain wasn't exactly on red alert yet, he simply sighed and snuggled in closer to the body wrapped around him. Of course that was alarm time for the person on top of him, he heard a gasp, a struggle with the sheets, cold morning air and curses that came loudly in the quiet of the warm fuzzy moment of the minute before.

He opened his eyes to see Malcolm had landed gracefully on his feet then as he stepped back he bumped into the night stand, bruising his hip and landing indignantly on the floor below, entangled in the stolen sheets. Carpet though the floor was, it still had a solid foundation and wasn't exactly as comfortable as landing on a pillow would have been and Reed's bum hurt. Reed was a guy and he was in his jammies but there was no hiding the morning sensations that all guys suffered through.

Poor Malcolm was so embarrassed, he was red faced, well okay, pink cheeked and ears burning bright, dark hair fanned out over his eyes and he looked very sexy, if somewhat horrified by what he had done in his sleep and had been about to do to the person he'd been plastered to a moment ago.

"Mal, its perfectly alright. There's nothing to feel any shame for. You were asleep, your body had a natural reaction. There's nothing to get all horror filled over. Let the drama go and I'm going back to sleep now. Well as soon as you return those sheets to the bed that is." Trip had insisted, sleepily and firmly and pleasantly.

"That's what you say now but you wait until you're awake, I doubt very much you'd appreciate the fact that I almost embarrassed the two of us in a carnal act that you have never made intentions that you ever felt that way towards me or towards anyone else of the male variety."

"Malcolm, I'm too tired to care right now. Please just get back in bed. I'm freezing my nuts off here." he complained grumpily.

Malcolm scowled. "You and your comforts. I swear you're worse then my father. He's a selfish bastard to." he grumped threw the blankets back on Tucker then stormed into the bathroom.

Trip pretended to ignore the insults, wrapped himself in the warm blankets like a mummy in its sarcophagus then went back to sleep or rather he tried to go back to sleep he hadn't appreciated being compared to Malcolm's Father. That was a relationship with more than a few problems in it. The man didn't send his son even a single post card a year, not one letter for every six that Trip knew for a fact Malcolm mailed every year. Hoshi often waxed sad poetry over it, "His mother's better, but she is a bit of a flake, and her letters are odd ones. If I didn't know better I'd say she was writing in code to her son." Odd folks Malcolm had, very odd and very troubled. Which in some ways explained Malcolm's paranoia and unsocial behavior to no end.

Reed took a steaming hot bath and stayed for an hour before coming out and facing the day like a man. Trip of course had been cat napping.

"I think sharing the bed has been a mistake." said Malcolm uncomfortably.

Trip sighed gave his complete attention over to Malcolm then replied. "Malcolm, let it go. As far as we know this place could be bugged. We need to act as natural as possible. You're the security officer here, Mal, why am I the one giving the lecture here?" he'd asked his good mood quickly turning sour. Couldn't a man get some bed rest? He'd thought mulishly. But mostly he just wanted Malcolm to let the nonsense go.

"Trip, I'm not comfortable with this. You're right, we need to keep this as real as possible, yet I just...this morning was...."

"Malcolm, I told you to forget about it. It happens. Didn't anyone tell you about the birds and the bees and men's physical clock work?"

"How can you be so flippant?" hissed Malcolm cheeks flaring pink again.

Malcolm was a good roommate and yeah, a cuddly bed person. Warm and snuggly and warmer than T'Pol in a good mood on a good day. And he was damned cute when he blushed like that.

Why were he and T'Pol together again? Oh yeah, neural pressure sessions and some animal magnetism and human sentiment and the fact that Trip was a gentleman and could do commitment. He didn't sleep around when he was already sleeping with someone.

However when he stopped to think about it, Malcolm was more of the type of person his own parents would have welcomed into the family. Human, warm, compassionate, sure he had his hissy fits and his catty moods, and his cold Vulcan moods and, mercurial was what Malcolm was and he was damned sexy and the worst part of it all was that Malcolm seemed oblivious of his self worth and attractiveness. Malcolm was the epitome of the ocean, warm and soothing one minute cold and hard and stormy the next, a true son of Poseidon himself.

"I'm sorry Mal. I don't mean to be embarrassing you. I'm just saying, its no big deal. Besides, I like having my very own cuddle bunny." he teased outrageously.

Malcolm Reed took the pillow and beat him over the head with it until Trip retaliated with his own pillow and then they pillow fought until they were both a relaxed heap of gigglers.

Trip felt undeniably the tugs of his heart strings. He had to shut that off. There was a war going on. Both he and Malcolm could be dead inside of a year; if things go bad.

"Mal, are we good now?"

"Trip it really should be me asking that question, but yes, I think we're good. I'll try not do that again to you."

"No problem, Mal. Like I said it's a perfectly natural body reaction, nothing to get all bent out of shape over and I sure as hell aint going to hold it against ya. I like being on the right."

"Good." said Malcom, warm little smile on his face. "Because I like the left side."

"Good." agreed Trip, feeling his heart pinch painfully. Malcolm really was beautiful, especially when he smiled like that.

* * *

The memory was a good one. And Malcolm was very warm, very caring, even if he did have some irritating procedures, routines that he never seemed able to break himself of. Trip was more of a carefree individual who cared very little in what ways the bed was made or in what order the morning meal should proceed. Yet he liked the coziness of it. He liked seeing the domestic side of Malcolm. It was a real eye opener.

Malcolm was a very domestic kind of guy; even if he had to have things done in certain ways. Very obsessive compulsive disorder of him. But it could also be the years of training under his father and mother. A family run with military or rather naval precision. A lifetime of habits that he couldn't or wouldn't break not even to make a cozy situation even cozier.

Tucker sighed, slouched deeply into the little groove in the cave he was currently wedged into and let the steam bathe him in its warmth and fragrance. The fragrance was that of lavender fields, salt oceans, and rosewood. A strong smell that was sweet yet not sickly so.

Trip liked to think of himself as self-reliant, as an adult who can take care of himself, someone who can stand on his own two feet and look after himself. He didn't like that he couldn't seem to get through his grief without so many helping hands. Especially hands he'd bitten in his pain and guilt filled days since his sister's death. Guilt that he hadn't been there to protect Lizzie, guilt that he couldn't gracefully accept the help of others, that he had made Malcolm pay for his pain on more times then he cared to count or even recall. That Trey'van weasel had been right about that now that he'd had some time to think on it.

He'd been real mean to Malcolm the last several months and all Malcolm ever had tried to do was help him. And what had Malcolm gotten for his friendly troubles and trying to help his engineer pal and superior officer? Nothing but pain and bickering and a yelling match that had reached over three decks. Nothing but hurt feelings for all of his troubles with Trip. Trip was crushed by the guilt he felt. He was determined to make things better now though.

Some of those group sessions were so intense that it seemed even Malcolm was feeling it. He knew that Malcolm had some family problems of his own and a suitcase or two of emotional baggage he'd never unloaded. Trip really believed that this place was starting to help the both of them. He especially liked the one class; Relationship Friendship: The Building that crumbles or the Foundation that's solid. As an engineer he was made for building things. Building relationships, building engines and other things of science that helped people in star fleet and on earth. He was a builder but he had to admit that he was flawed at nurturing the things he had built.

Prime example his friendship with Malcolm.

Those classes were having a good affect on both of them. They'd even broken down a wall last week and the both of them had actually shed a few tears about the matter. They'd been told it was the first step in a long process to healing. Malcolm crying tears was heart wrenching and very unsettling. He didn't like watching Malcolm cry. It made him hurt and feel inadequate and stupid because he didn't have the right words or know what to say to his friend to help him. Especially during that one session in Hurt: The Knife with Two Edges and How to Heal and let that Wound Go.

He'd known a little bit of Malcolm's past after that birthday party the captain had thrown and John's unease with Malcolm's parents' inability to tell them what things Malcolm liked to eat or do. And Malcolm's dad had been a real piece of work.

"I was always a disappointment to him." Malcolm admitted in the class. "I didn't turn out the way he wanted me to. My family pretty much turned their backs on me. All I have is the family I have made for myself and one member of that family is my Charles." Of course Malcolm had blushed and looked shocked at his own admittance of something so deeply personal and private to him. Trip couldn't have felt more proud to have been there to hear Malcolm and help Malcolm when he was given the opportunity to do so. There was an exercise in which they traded places and portrayed the other in a hurtful situation, thereby being in the other's foot steps helped them to understand what the other was feeling and had been feeling at the time of the blow out. He'd never realized just how cruel he'd been to Malcolm and how much Malcolm was still hurting underneath all of his professionalism and stoicism.

He knew they would come out of these sessions a stronger more supportive friendship. Of course being forced to literally kiss and make up was one hell of an interesting moment. Both of them had shuffled their feet and coughed and did anything and everything but make the first move to kiss the other. Finally Malcolm had stiffened his backbone and smiled a strange sort of communicative smile that seemed to say "Come on, we're adults and we're supposed to be in a loving relationship, let's do this thing and do it right so we can move on and find the Captain."

So they had kissed and in front of everyone. Malcolm sure could kiss. He'd actually felt his knees melt from under him, if not for Malcolm's strong arms supporting him, though shaking those arms might have been, he knew he would have fallen in a heap on the floor embarrassing the both of them in front of their captivated group audience.

Duty it might have been but something in that kiss had felt entirely too real for comfort. It wasn't that he didn't like or even love Malcolm god knows once a person got past the cold exterior Malcolm was worth knowing, worth being friends with, maybe even more then being friends with, but they had a mission. Earth was at War with the Xindi there was good chance that none of them were going to come back from their first and last confrontation with the Alien race whose agenda was to genocide the Milky way population.

He didn't want to fall in love with Malcolm only to lose him on the battlefield. Or have Malcolm fall in love with him and lose him in the battlefield. He knew Malcolm wouldn't be able to handle the loss. Malcolm was amazingly vulnerable underneath the faÃ§ade of self-confidence and duty he gave off. Trip never wanted to see Malcolm heart broken or grieving for a lost love.

Hearing Malcolm talk about his family. Hearing his voice waver and seeing in his eyes the tears he was trying not to shed for all the hurt his family had caused him over the years; it did something to Trip's stomach. It made him want to gather up his friend into his arms and hold on to him, give him comfort. It was what Malcolm had wanted to do for him when Malcolm had heard about his loss, about Lizzie's death and Trip had simply pushed him away with cold fury and words aimed to hurt his friend.

He knew what buttons to push to make Malcolm back off. After being trapped more then a few times and having enforced sleepovers during those missions where they had been trapped together under some pretty embarrassing and under some pretty astonishing circumstances he knew exactly what to do to make Malcolm leave him alone.

So Malcolm had left him alone. Malcolm had crept off somewhere to lick his wounds and bury himself in his armory and in his weird fixation that Hayes was trying to usurp and undermine his position as Chief of Security. That Hayes was gunning for his job.

Trip sighed again as the steam caves helped him to relax. He hoped Malcolm was finding clues to Captain Archer's whereabouts. Because as hard as Trip searched he couldn't find anything, not a single clue as to his best friend's whereabouts. He worried about Archer yet he found more and more that his mind was troubled over Malcolm. He wasn't blind he knew what these sessions were doing to Malcolm.

He seemed more of an emotional wreck lately then he'd ever known Malcolm to ever be in over the course of their association with one another. He knew Malcolm was unsettled by the Spa and that Trey'van person was part to blame but the other part Trip was sure of was that while having to endure the classes Malcolm was being forced to come to terms with his own personal baggage; something which the Lieutenant wasn't used to.

Emotions were volatile things and it seemed that like a Vulcan, Malcolm had a hard time dealing with his emotions, even acknowledging the ones that were right there for anyone to see.

How had Malcolm survived so many years in pain? In rejection and dejection? It was obvious that Malcolm had given up hope a long time ago on making things better between himself and his folks.

Trip was himself a little unsettled by some of what he saw in Malcolm's eyes of late. Malcolm didn't seem like himself lately. Trip just hoped Malcolm would recover and get back to normal soon. He also hoped that in some small part that this Spa was helping his friend as it was helping him.

Yet there was something unsettling about the situation that was growing between Malcolm and Trey'van, something Trip couldn't quite put his finger on. Something that made him feel uneasy. Like a sixth sense was tingling somewhere inside of him warning him that darker things were coming. Things he wasn't sure he was ready to face, let alone things he might have to fight.

He wasn't emotionally equipped to deal with anything huge right now. The more he thought on it the more his feet itched to run. Yet he wasn't a coward, alright so Malcolm had accused him one time of being so and maybe some small little boy part inside of him was rather cowardly but he was ready and able to face danger if he needed to and especially if it meant saving his friends and family.

Emotionally equipped or not if Malcolm had need of his help he'd help him. He just hoped Malcolm would talk to him soon about it. Before his bravery ran out. Seeing Malcolm falling apart like he was it didn't feel right to Trip. Something was going on and he wasn't sure if he knew how to fix it make it right again.


	6. Chapter 6

Archer, where was Archer? All of his searching all of the time spent between sessions and eating sleeping and losing time with Trey'van, Malcolm hadn't been able to put his full attentions to the search for his husband's best friend and he felt extremely upset over the matter. He scrubbed the kitchen area in their rooms.

Decked out in an apron and rubber gloves Malcolm was down to business with cleaning the place within an inch of its life. He thought that if he scrubbed and cleaned his surroundings maybe he'd feel better since it seemed that no matter how much he scrubbed his body he couldn't feel in control or clean of any sort that maybe, and it was a small hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd feel better.

He scrubbed and cleaned and dusted. He did laundry, folding and refolding, washing and drying and folding again, bed sheets, blankets, both his and Trip's clothes and under garments. The windows, the dishes, everything he could think of even going so far as to take a toothbrush, newly bought, and scrubbing even the tiniest corners and hard to reach spots in the rooms, but nothing he did seemed to make him feel better. Exhausted yes, but feel clean, no.

He finally sat down in his chair nearest the windows and began to meditate in his solitude. He felt his nerves calm some but still he couldn't feel settled or right. He fell asleep for a few hours then went back to work on the kitchen. This time he decided he'd make Trip all of his favorites. Maybe if he fed Trip and made the night a romantic one maybe Trip would be able to help him. He didn't want Trip to know that he'd been unfaithful. He wanted Trip to feel appreciated and loved.

He and Trip hadn't exactly had marital intimacies in a while, maybe it was time to let the barriers and pain go and make up with Trip the right way. Give Trip something to think about when his eyes wandered in the future. He smiled and actually felt good.

"I don't want Trip to leave me. I have to make this perfect."

Making Trip's favorites was a pain for Malcolm because most of the foods he was preparing were things he couldn't eat whether because he didn't like them or because of his allergies. He hoped Trip would like it though. Malcolm's abilities in the kitchen were minimal and he had yet to over the years improve on his cooking abilities. He was watchful and made sure not to let his focus wander as he cooked so that nothing would burn this time unlike the disaster meals of the past.

"Tonight is going to be perfect. We're going to make love and get back on the right path. We'll be friends again. I'm letting go of this pain I feel." he murmured as he watched the catfish fry in the stove. He wanted to make Trip feel loved and appreciated. He wanted to make sure that Trip would have something to think about if he ever decided to leave him again.

"I'm letting go of my jealousy and petty emotions. Tonight is going to be all about our love." He said, reassuring himself, prepping himself getting up his confidence and courage with every word he spoke out loud. "I won't have him regret ever having married me ever again. Tonight is the first step to our happiness." He told himself, stiffening his posture and forcing the bad memories away.

"We will be happy and we will be together and Trey'van isn't going to get between us. Trip's never going to find out about Trey'van and what he did to me. No one will. We're going to be a happy couple again. Trip and me, we're forever." He insisted, hissed determined to forget Trey'van, determined to forget all the bad things that had happened to him over the years. He was a Reed he had emotions but he didn't whine and cry about it. He was a Reed and he would repress anything that was unsightly or unforgivable. He would keep his man happy. They were going to be a happy couple again. He was determined to do right by Trip and no one was going to get in his way.

He smiled lovingly as he prepared the table, candlesticks and romantic silver laced table-set, cups wine glasses, small dish for salad, smaller dish for desert, large dish for main courses, wine and water for the both of them, and milk for Trip to go with his pecan pie.

* * *

Hoshi watched as did Hayes. Malcolm was acting very bizarre. Talking to himself cleaning like a crazed being. Malcolm in an apron who ever would have believed it if it wasn't already being captured on screen before their eyes. Actually Malcolm looked rather cute in the apron, despite all the frilly little ruffles on it and the sentence "Mama's gettin' it on in the Kitchen".

Though the phrase didn't match the cute little apron nor "Mama" describe Malcolm in any way, Malcolm was actually pulling it off pretty well. Even if he was talking to himself in words so quiet and low that she couldn't hear them.

Hayes and she shared a look then looked at T'Pol.

Both humans faces showed T'Pol emotions that then made her concerned. What was happening below? What was happening to the Lieutenant and Commander and to the Captain? According to reports from the two officers below and even reports from Major Hayes and Ms. Sato there was nothing to report. Though Mr. Reed's reports were shaded more and more by his entangled emotions. Which had T'Pol again wondering the logic of the situation the crew was now in.


	7. Chapter 7

Trey'van wanted to take over the world not because he was power hungry as he explained to his most devoted followers, but because he wanted to change people for the better. I truly believe that given enough time and effort on all of our parts peace can be achieved through the change of an individual's personal perspectives. If we change their mind into positive mental stability then this could be the end of all war and strife. If we change their greed into giving. If we change their need for violence into need for love, then no more death would result in an act of depravity. If we make all love all then there cannot be jealousy or petty behavior. If all love all then all would want happiness for their fellows.

But by going into a being's mind and tweaking that mind into one of his making, he was violating one of the sacred rules of their society even of their religion. How can peace come from perversion?

This troubled Trey'van very little but it did trouble a few of his followers. He sighed. Follow me unquestioningly. Have faith in me and in my vision, my image of the future to come. With my mate beside me there will be nothing I cannot, that we cannot, achieve.

We will have a Utopia of Worlds. An empire based on love and respect. We will finally have peace in the galaxy.

"Yet some are Immune to the gifts of the mind."

This question plagues me as well. Some are immune. Therefore I suppose if they will not be lead as sheep by their followers, then those too old to change, to see reason, will simply have to be put out of their misery. Euthanasia. Painless merciful death."

It was perfect.

His true followers agreed, well after he tweaked their minds again. So exhausting the constant dealings with the illness of his peoples minds. But he was worthy and he had a just cause. He would help them all. It was his calling to help his fellows and the universe, as much of the universe as he could before the end of his time came.

* * *

Captain Jonathan Archer sighed as his companion massaged his back. The bubble bath earlier had been a great way to relax. He loved Cynthia she was amazing. He was in heaven. He'd never had so much sex in his life. He was both exhausted and thrilled all at the same time. Cynthia was a goddess.

She leaned over and kissed him, her hands running down to his behind and giving it a firm squeeze. He rolled over and she sat in his lap. He was deliciously warm and ready for another go. She giggled as his mouth devoured her voluptuous breasts one at a time. His hands stroked her sides and she moaned and began to rock increasing the building heat between them. He met her thrust for thrust moaning in pleasure as climax soon took them both.

"Oh love," she groaned. "You are so good to me."

"No, it's the other way around." insisted Archer sincerely as he kissed her.

Cynthia devoured his mouth then shortened the kiss to a quick peck. "We have to get dressed, company should be here soon."

"Not more family is it?"

"No, just Trey'van and his followers. I told him I'd host his party tonight. We have so much to thank him for."

"Well, I suppose." said Archer contentedly.

"He did bring us closer together Jonathan, without him we wouldn't be here today to find love in each other's arms" She said.

Captain Archer smiled. "That's true, far be it for me to show ingratitude to a man for having helped me with someone so beautiful and giving me something so wonderful, you, Cynthia."

She smiled and gave him another kiss which quickly dissolved into another bout of passion and lovemaking.

* * *

Charles Tucker the third was not expecting candle light and home cooked seduction. He came to a stop just a step through the doorway. His eyes were glued to the table and dim living area.

"Uh, Malcolm?" he asked nervously. Was Malcolm expecting company? Should Trip find a couch somewhere to sleep on? Wait a minute this is a mission there was no way that Malcolm was out seducing someone when he should have been searching for the Captain. Unsettled by his theories he waited for Malcolm to make an appearance and to tell him what was going on.

He could smell Pecan pie baking. He began to feel even more unsettled. Who else on this planet even knew or even liked Pecan Pie? He got a strange feeling. Not unpleasant but warm and tingling and strange. He could smell the steaming vegetables on the table and the pan fried cat fish, he didn't think possible to get on this planet. He knew this was a dinner set for him. A trap that usually signaled deep intentions of romance and other things he was hard pressed to figure out. Survival was for the quick of whit and right now Trip felt like his brain cells were dead or at the least not functioning properly.

Unease came back full force when Malcolm came out of the bedroom dressed to seduce.

* * *

Hoshi gasped, Maywhether and Hayes rushed to her side each of them worried. Had something happened to the Commander and Lieutenant? They blinked at the display seeing the room lit only by candles and the soft glow of the fireplace.

"That looks pretty cozy." remarked Maywether.

Hoshi replied. "Cozy, that's romance, Maywether, it looks like Malcolm's putting the moves on Trip."

"You have got to be kidding. I didn't think either one of them ran that way." said Hayes.

Hoshi and Mayewhether only shook their heads. As stunned as anyone could be.

"This doesn't seem right or normal for either one of them." Said Hoshi in agreement. "But perhaps we're wrong. Maybe we should try to contact them and ask them what's going on?"

Hayes frowned. "We can't do that. It could put their cover in jeopardy."

They continued to star in awe at the unfurling scene before them on screen. Malcolm was seductive as chocolate and velvet.

* * *

Two glasses of wine in his hands he smiled while offering Trip one of the glasses. Trip automatically accepted it then took a quick gulping sip and let Malcolm lead him to the couch. Malcolm was warm and friendly. His shirt was pale white soft cotton and half buttoned showing a defined chest and a hint of rippling stomach muscles. Malcolm was too close, smelling too good. Trip felt his mouth go dry and he took another sip of wine.

"Dinner's almost ready." said Malcolm. "I'm waiting on a few of the vegetables and the rolls."

"Mal, what's going on here." he asked, forcing his mind to think, forcing his lips to move.

"What, can't a man make his man something to eat without raising suspect?" A quirk of Malcolm's lips, a warm purr in his voice, a sip of his own glass of wine.

"Yeah, of course, but I don't understand Mal, I mean as far as I know I've done nothing to deserve anything like this." 'his man'? What was going on here?

"Oh but you have Trip." Malcolm insisted earnestly, and was suddenly in his lap, his hands on both sides of Trip's face, intense blue-grey eyes captured summer-blue eyes. Trip stilled stunned, he knew what was coming next. "You want to make our relationship strong again. I want to show you how much I appreciate that. How much I love you."

Malcolm's mouth was on his before he could even reply. Malcolm's kiss was warm, wet but not too wet, tasting of wine and heat and Malcolm. He couldn't help but return the kiss but he panicked and bucked dislodging Malcolm from his lap, wine stained the couch and rug, crystal broke and Malcolm let a dismayed cry escape, his injured knee now had glass lodged in it, serrated and cut and bleeding. He looked up at Trip watching his beloved running away.

What had he done to make Trip react so violently? Why was Trip leaving him?

"Trip!"

"Trip, wait!"

"Where are you going?"

"Trip stop, wait, please." he cried. "Trip"

"Trip"

Trip Tucker didn't stop he didn't turn around and he didn't reply he kept walking quickly out the door. His own fear racing louder than any cries Malcolm made. His heart beat too loud, the scent of pie not even a comforting sensation but one that was quickly bringing nausea to his senses. He left his distraught and in pain friend behind him, running from his own feelings. Running from the confusion he felt. He loved Malcolm but he knew this wasn't right, that this situation didn't feel right. This was not like Malcolm at all. The timing for such a relationship wasn't in the cards right now.

* * *

Hoshi, Hayes, and Maywether were stunned by Trip's behavior. Even more stunned by Malcolm's tears.

* * *

Malcolm felt his heart breaking. He was unbearably sad and unable to understand what had gone wrong, what had happened. Had Trip rejected him? What would he do without Trip? What just happened, why had Trip acted like that? Weren't they here to strengthen their relationship, to make their marriage work? Had Trip felt he had somehow shamed him? Had he hurt Trip unintentionally?

He couldn't make himself move. Trip had to come back. Trip wouldn't just leave him like this.

Would he?

He waited for Trip. Heart broken.

He waited

And he waited

Could Trip know? Had Trip found out?

He knows.

He must know

He knows

That's why he's rejected me

He knows.

Oh god

Oh god

Oh god he knows.

But how, how could he know?

Panic and fear rose and he huddled into himself, rocking back and forth, hugging his stomach, letting the glass rip his knee open some more, rocking and rocking. His agitation and despair grew. He couldn't stop crying or stop rocking. He wanted to die. If Trip knew, if Trip was rejecting him; he wanted to die. He deserved to die.

If Trip knew what had happened.

He wanted to die.

What would be worse for Malcolm to admit to: that he had been raped or that he had been faithless to Trip? That he had been powerless to prevent what had happened to him and so would rather believe himself faithless rather than having been taken against his will? Malcolm wouldn't like either idea but he'd choose faithless to powerless any time.


	8. Chapter 8

Watching Malcolm on screen Hayes and Hoshi were both horrified to watch the lieutenant break apart as he was doing.

What had set it off? Unbidden came the unfamiliar sensation of worry for the lieutenant to Major Hayes. What he was witnessing was morbidly fascinating and ultimately another confirmation that this ship was not ready nor its crew able to handle the dangers of which they would have to face on this mission.

Live audio feed wasn't one of the perks at the moment. It was driving them both crazy watching this silent film, wondering and puzzling about the events that had brought Malcolm Reed to these desperate straights. They puzzled over the events they'd witnessed over the last couple of weeks and nothing came clearly to them to indicate the reasons for Malcolm to get to this state of being.

Hoshi was able to read body language as well as written language. Her eyes and ears were key to her abilities as a linguist. She could read he was upset, crushingly upset. Watching him willfully grind his knee into the broken glass was a sign of self destruction, or a hurt so deep that the only way to relieve oneself of the emotional pain was through the physical, like cutting.

"I think whatever's happening down there they better find the Captain and fast. He could be going through this same thing. He could be an emotional wreck like Malcolm. Possibly suicidal or even dead." Said Hoshi, pessimistically.

Hayes frowned. "Let's hope not. Our mission's hardly begun and for it to end like this...It doesn't spell anything good for anybody, let alone the human race." said Hayes darkly. "We should pull them out of there."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow as she listened in the two. "Ensign, Major, did you have news you wished to share with us?"

Hoshi bit her lip debating to speak then she frowned and shook her head. Major Hayes replied. "No, not really. No news on the Captain, anyway."

He wasn't about to report to the fitness of his commanding officers though. He wasn't a tattle-tale. He was in security, a MACO, secrets were his trade and he wasn't going to tell Sub-Commander T'Pol that their Chief of Security, his CO was at the moment unfit for any kind of duty but that of a patient in a straight jacket in the loony ward.

He could see that one going over real well with the crew and the men and women in particular in the Armory. They'd string him up or foist him out the nearest air lock.

He'd let Commander Tucker deal with the matter and report to the mental state his officer was in or if he was in the same state as Malcolm then Major Hayes was pretty sure T'Pol could make an accurate assessment of their emotional issues and order them to permanent residency in sickbay if such a situation were indeed to happen.

T'Pol was in command of this ship and he'd leave it to her to give the orders and make her own assessment of their conditions.

"Are you sure there is nothing you wish to report?" inquired T'Pol.

"Yes, Ma'am, nothing." insisted Hayes.

'Very well. I see it is almost time for Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed to check in, have they anything to report?"

Hoshi danced her fingers over her touchpad that shook her head. "They haven't checked in yet. Nothing to report it seems for the time being."

T'Pol's pointy brows furrowed. "It is unlike the Lieutenant to not send his report on time. Are you absolutely certain there is nothing? Do you wish to add anything?"

"I don't know ma'am. The Lieutenant is only human, as much as he tries to make his reports on time, there are bound to be delays, or things that come up on such a dangerous undercover mission." replied Hoshi, trying to cover for Malcolm's lapse in sanity.

"Very well, inform me when they finally report in."

"Yes ma'am." said Hayes and Hoshi together as Mayweather was about to take his turn at the console, officer watching.

* * *

The room was dark, candles had guttered in the hours that Trip had been absent. Malcolm still rocked in place, tears trickling down his cheeks, one tear crawling slowly down after the other. His knee was torn up but he had stopped bleeding a while ago, rocking and imbedding more glass as he did so, as the door opened and bright light gushed in, Reed stopped, he was perfectly still as the outline of his beloved shadowed into the room from the doorway. He sniffled and wiped hurriedly at his eyes, getting rid of as much evidence of his unmanned state as he could. Trip had come back to him. Trip still loved him. They'd work things out. He knew it now that he could see Trip standing there searching the room with his worried gaze for him.

"Malcolm." he said perplexed. He could see from the dimness of the room that nothing had been touched. He could tell that Malcolm had sat there these last few hours and not tidied a single moment of his absence, not touched a single candle or a single plate of food. This was not like Malcolm. This evening was like a round of the Twilight Zone at movie time. He knew the person in this room had to be Malcolm but they sure didn't act like Malcolm.

"Malcolm, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, now that you're here." Malcolm replied, sweetly, lovingly, sickeningly.

Trip was here now. Everything was right in Malcolm's world again.

Trip frowned worried, "Malcolm, I want you to answer me truthfully and sincerely when I ask you. Have you been taken over by a pod person?"

Malcolm blinked as Trip hit the lights forcing the darkness at bay so he could see Malcolm's face clearly when he replied.

"No, I haven't been taken over by a pod person. Why would you think I've been taken over by a pod person?" he asked honestly puzzled.

Trip didn't answer he stared at the wreckage of his friend on the floor before him. Seeing hair messed from finger pulling at strands, seeing red rimmed eyes and splotches of red on pale, pale, skin. Crimson dried in a good sized stain by one knee, more crimson on a torn blue jeans knee. He sucked in a gust of air then let it out and was at Malcolm's side in three long fast striding steps and quickly lifted Malcolm up into his strong arms and carried him into the bathroom.

"Jesus, what did you do to yourself?" he gasped as he sat Malcolm down on the edge of the tub and ripped the rest of his pant leg off to clean the cut and raw wounded knee. He let water run in the tub then hurried to his first aid kit for tweevers and anti-septic and pain killers.

"We need to soak that leg of yours and get all of the glass out. I hope none of its traveling in your blood stream otherwise you could be looking at some major medical problems Malcolm. We'll have to let Phlox know regardless. That much glass didn't get into your knee by accident. This isn't right Mal. This isn't like you."

Malcolm looked away unable to meet Trip's concerned blue eyes. He felt so unworthy of Trip right then. He felt like such a burden to Trip. Yet Trip didn't seem to mind. He was here and he was taking care of him. He was lucky to have Trip care at all about him.

"Malcolm, what's going on in that messed up head of yours?" he asked gently, negating the sting in his words.


	9. Chapter 9

Trey'van had never been so enraged. How could those two thwart him like this? How could his sweet Malcolm totally twist the imbedded messages in his mind and instead of giving Trey'van his love and ardor instead kept giving it to the unworthy Tucker.

Tucker who had abused him and rejected him time and time again.

"All of his devotion should have been mine. How was this possible? How had he without any training or defenses have thwarted my mind messages?"

His assistants bowed and scraped and tried to comfort him but instead it only enraged him more. His Malcolm was a fighter. A firebrand. A scrapper. So much passion and fire in one little insignificant plain-bland looking little alien.

What was it about Malcolm that so impassioned and set his loins ablaze? What about the ingrate, ungrateful Malcolm made him so much an object of his needs, an object to his possession and obsessions?

He searched the compound and found his beloved one missing along with his mate. Enraged further Trey'van sent out his soldiers with one single mission. "Bring back Malcolm Reed, alive and kill his mate. I want Malcolm for my own. To help us all, my children, with our one true goal, paradise outside of death."

* * *

On the ship Malcolm Reed was in sick bay, his eyes focused solely on Trip. Dr. Phlox looked at his reading then up at the quiet haggard young man. "Mr. Reed are you in pain?" he asked gently.

"No. I'm fine." he insisted as usual.

Phlox frowned. "Well, I have searched your blood and I have found no chemicals, and Mr. Tucker will be glad to know I have not found any glass in your blood either. But this does concern me, as well as the rest of your friends, Mr. Reed. They've noticed something odd has been happening to you of late....I would almost suspect that you are suffering a form of depression disorder.

"Your neurological makeup is...I will need to take further tests. You have shown signs of being a danger to yourself. I don't believe I should let you out of sickbay at all, yet you do not as yet show signs of endangerment to the crew and with Mr Tucker assuring me that he plans to take care of you and keep an eye on you, I trust him to look after you. We all know how much you dislike sickbay and as a favor to yourself, myself and Mr. Tucker; I have agreed to his request."

"Of course he will look after me, he's my husband." insisted Reed, anxiously.

Phlox paused. "Why do you believe that he is your husband?" inquired Phlox sympathy in his eyes and tone.

"Because...we're married...I...I lost my ring" He fidgeted guiltily. Quick to reassure his spouse. "But I will find it again or...or Trip could buy me a new one?" Malcolm insisted, his tone was one nearing panic despite his attempts at keeping calm. He didn't like disappointing Trip and it was a terrible thing that he'd lost his ring that day in the forest...the day he'd lost his...no, no don't go there, not there.

Trip was at his side hand on his shoulder giving support. His own prop, gold band on his finger glinted in the sickbay lights. Reed's eyes focused on the ring and on the hand of the man he loved. Their hand's clasped together fingers intertwining. Trip kissed his brow.

"Its alright Mal, like I said, the ring's no bother. We'll get'ya a new one."

Malcolm smiled sweetly, trusting in Trip. Trusting that their marriage was going to survive this.

* * *

Malcolm's mood swings were scary more so than ever before. It was obvious the Lieutenant didn't have all of his marbles. Maco and security walked softly in his presence though Malcolm rarely made it to the armory. He was not allowed duty.

He tagged along with Tucker, invading the engineering section. Dogging Tucker's steps, gazing jealously on people who tried to monopolize his husband's time away from Malcolm. He didn't trust them not to want his spouse or for said spouse to find other pursuits to be more pleasurable than a spouse on the verge of suicidal tendencies.

"Mal, stop fretting. I toldya, I wasn't going to leave ya. I know we've had troubles in the past but we're together. Right? We got wedding rings, right?"

Malcolm sighed despondently. "Yes, but...I saw that woman looking at you and you returned her look."

"Mal, I aint gonna cheat on ya. You know that!" said the exasperated Engineer. Malcolm flinched. Malcolm's self esteem was damaged and he tended to perceive everyone out to take Trip away from him. He even thought Trip was looking for an excuse to leave him. He was grasping and needy. Constantly in need of reassurances. It was getting frustrating and exasperating and exhausting to constantly be needed.

"Do I?" asked Reed tone of voice and the expression in his eyes showing complete pain.

"Yes, ga-dammit!" growled Tucker furiously.

"You didn't get me a new ring yet." said Reed voice quavering, near tears.

Tucker was quickly by his side putting an arm around his shoulders. He kissed Malcolm's forehead. "Mal, please don't cry. Please don't cry." begged Tucker feeling once more out of his depths.

He loved Mal but he knew that if Malcolm were in his right mind right now he wouldn't be carrying on like this or even let Tucker hold him like this or kiss him like this or...Malcolm was straight. If it hadn't been for that counselor messing with Malcolm's mind Mal would know his actions weren't like his usual self. Emotional Malcolm wasn't. Gay Malcolm wasn't either.

"When I get more time." he promised. "When we find Johnny. We'll get ya a new ring or else find the old one, I swear it Mal."

Malcolm didn't look satisfied. Instead he looked more miserable. "You want Archer instead of me. You think I'm a drain on you. You wont even touch me when we're in bed together. You're going to leave me when we find Archer. I know it." he insisted mulishly, eyes filling with tears.

"Mal that's not true!" cried Tucker in protest. "There's no one I want more than you. Ya gotta believe me."

The engineering crew outside his office stopped in their duties hearing the two men argue and their voices raising or rather Tucker's voice rising more and more with his rise in his stress levels. They had never heard such a desperate sound come from their chief before.

Malcolm just shook his head and wept more miserably. Trip's heart twisted with new pain. He wanted to kill the bastard that did this to Mal. Made him into such an emotional wreck, made him doubt Trip's sincerity, made him such a basket case, a suicidal basket case. He feared he was losing Mal.

He had lost count the many times over the last seven days he'd kept Mal from offing himself. He was drained and frightened. Phlox's meds didn't seem to be helping Mal at all. He wanted his old Mal back. He didn't want to be afraid any more or have to constantly keep a guard on Mal.

He wanted to trust Malcolm again. He wanted to trust that he wouldn't try to die after every minor argument they had. He wanted to have a conversation with Mal that didn't end in pain for both of them.

He knew he shouldn't have said it or let it come out the way it did, but he was pretty exhausted and he was never one to hold back in bluntness. "Let's go to sickbay Mal. I don't think the doc's got your meds right yet." insisted Trip gently.

"Its not the meds. You love Archer. You don't love me." he wept harder and broke away from Trip's arms.

Trip tried to chase after him but for a frail wraith out of his mind Reed was fast and soon lost the frantic engineer. When he cried to his people to stop Reed. Malcolm managed to dodge them as well and make a good escape.

Reed wanted to die. Everyone wanted to take Trip away from him and he couldn't keep him. Archer and Trip were closer to each other than he was to Trip. Trip didn't touch him. Trip wouldn't kiss him, except little pecks on the forehead or cheek and nothing on the lips or on the neck. And no love-making at all.

Trip said he wasn't right in the head. The doctor, quack that he was, also said he wasn't in his right mind but he knew he was perfectly fine. He knew he wasn't good enough for Trip but he really had hoped Trip would love him, choose him over Archer or T'Pol. Tri couldn't hide his feelings very well. He was an open book to Malcolm, an open book! A book with pages and pages of words Malcolm could read and interpret as well as anyone else.

The mood swing had changed yet again and a new course of actions came easily to Malcolm's mercurial mind.

He wasn't going to lose Trip without a fight!

T'Pol was going to die.


	10. Chapter 10

T'Pol was trying to mobilize the troops in a concentrated group effort with their new allies to bring down the cult leader they knew as Trey'Van. "Our captain is missing and one of our operatives has been...incapacitated by his brush with Trey'van. He is not himself. His mind is out of order and more illogical than it should be."

Malcolm frowned. Why was she talking about him to some stranger? What was she up to? It didn't matter she was going to die. He wasn't going to give her the chance to take his Trip away from him.

MACO and Security and Engineers regrouped and searched while Trip fretted and Phlox looked on with compassion and concern.

"Sometimes meds take a little experimentation Commander and with Mr Reed's sensitivity to most things, well, it is a bit difficult, hmm, but not impossible to strike on the right combination for him. I will of course need to work on some more blood samples and a scan of his brain, hmm yes, take a look at some of that neural synapse patterns and try to go from there. This is not a usual mental fatigue issue, as we know something down on the planet occurred. Some sort of mental assault, perhaps even an emotional one or even a physical assault. My tests from earlier confirm at least recent sexual activity whether it was willing or not is hard to confirm."

Trip blinked back sudden feelings of rage and horror. His Mal had been assaulted? Mal wouldn't let someone get that close. Malcolm was deadly. No one could possibly--yet, something had happened down there. Malcolm was muttering things all the time, irrational things that didn't make sense most of the time but one phrase in particular was always being repeated.

"I wouldn't cheat. I didn't cheat. I love you so much. I could never cheat on you" was it reaffirmation or was it denial or was it some sort of code for, "I was raped and couldn't make it stop" ? His heart wrenched with that image. His Mal taken against his will.

Yet there was something in him that believed the worse possible scenario would have been that it had been consensual. It would be almost too cruel to believe that Mal would find someone else in that spa to have an affair with.

Hold It! We're not married! If he had found someone to have sex with down there he wasn't betraying anything let alone me. But I know Mal and I know he has troubles with ladies and even worse troubles with guys. There was no way Mal would have had an affair with someone and not have sought out my advice.

He always has before. Though it had hurt to give his friend advice on wooing someone other than himself he had still given good advice with disastrous results.

Malcolm was shy. He stuttered he stammered, he was a complete cutie with a lack of social grace when it came to the matters of the heart. How he had managed to have a list of Exes a mile long was a little hard to believe unless they had been somewhat like himself and seen past the social bumbling. Yet those relationships hadn't lasted long and he planned to make his and Mal's relationship last a life time, if they ever managed to survive this dammed war, let alone the incompetent away missions. He knew everyone was new and all but really they needed some sort of guide of procedures for some of those darned disastrous missions.

Trip scowled. "I've tried to get him to talk about it Phlox, honestly I have. it's a no deal. He wont bite."

"Then we must carry on as we have been stumbling clumsily through the dark and hope we eventually come to a glowing moss path that let's us out of the cave." said Phlox sadly.

Trip sighed. Could he continue like this? Could Mal? Being trusted then distrusted in turns it was exhausting. It was extremely frustrating.

He just wanted Malcolm back. The right-in-his-mind Malcolm back. A sane Malcolm would be extremely good right about now.

\- -Flashback---

Their shared quarters. Bandages wrapped tightly around Mal's wrists, hands and thighs. Delicate lacerations had been carved into his skin. Malcolm had been very upset today.

"I didn't sleep with T'Pol." He argued hotly. "What's gotten into your head Mal? How did you twist things up to this point? Why did you try to kill yourself again?" He demanded anguished. "I told ya I wasn't going to leave ya. I told ya I didn't sleep with the Vulcan, or with Whtiney from Engineering or with Kraiger from Armory. For Christ's sake Mal, tell me what's going on. Tell me what happened to you on that planet."

Malcolm was weeping again. Curled up on their bed. The last of the bandages ties into place, Trip's arms wrapped around him, trying to give comfort and love with the expressions of his body, since his language and communication skills all seemed to be coming to a warped interpretation and twisted conclusion from Mal making him react in a manner that was clearly not conducive to anyone's well being.

"I don't care if our relationship's in tethers, that you've slept around on me. I love you. I love you so much. If you sleep with T'Pol I'll forgive it. I'll put up with it. I'll do anything to keep you Trip, accept anything, do anything as long as you don't leave me. Please don't leave me." he begged.

"I aint leaving ya Mal, just tell me what happened to ya. Please talk to me Mal. Talk to me or talk to Phlox."

Malcolm tensed. "Phlox will lock me up. He'll keep me in sickbay and he'll run his tests on me. You already think I'm insane. The way they look at me. Poor Reed he's lost his marbles." there was rage in Malcolm's voice. Rage in his trembling body. Trip hugged him tighter.

"I don't think that Mal. No one thinks that." he hissed, lying through his teeth. "You're in pain. We're your friends. We don't like seeing ya in so much pain. If you talk about it, it might go away. I'd like to make it go away for you Mal."

Malcolm sighed as Trip's hands began to massage his back. He ached in his muscles. Trip could feel Mal's body reacting could feel Malcolm wiggling and trying to direct his hands lower. Mal was a horny little bugger. Mal was kissing his neck and chest his hands moving firmly on a path meant to arouse and cause love play. Trip caught his hands and kissed the knuckles then the insides. He looked steadily into Malcolm's eyes, eyes dark yet alight with passion and love.

"Mal, honey, I love ya." he insisted firm and truthfully. "I really do. But I aint going to take advantage of you in this condition. I wont do it."

Malcolm frowned. "I thought you loved me. Don't you want to make love to me?"

"Didn't I just tell ya I loved ya? Of course I do and we will make love Mal, honest to god one day we will but not right now Mal. Right now all I just want to do is hold ya and make ya feel better."

Malcolm growled with discontent closed his eyes and for the moment seemed to give up. "Making love to me would make me feel better." He pouted. "But have it your way, all right, I'll behave. Just hold me and don't leave me. Promise you'll never leave me and I'll be satisfied. I promise." insisted Reed.

Trip gulped then fiercely promised. "I promise Mal. I'll never leave ya, not ever."

Reed sighed happily now in a cuddly mood. Mal could be such a snuggle bunny sometimes. Trip wondered idly if--no--when Mal was in his right mind again would Mal still be the same snuggley person?

"Phlox will fix this Mal. We just need to be patient. I should never'ave dragged you into that place. We should never have gone down there and played cloak and dagger, secret agents. We should have just confronted them plain and simple and demanded our Captain back. But I really wanted to find John. But mostly Mal I just wanted to put us back together again ya know? Fix our friendship. Cause I know I hurt ya Mal and I never wanted to hurt ya. Not ever."

Malcolm was asleep sighing contentedly, his body still plastered even in sleep to Trip's own body like a second skin. It was little suffocating yet at the same time the most wonderful thing in his world. Malcolm thought he was in love with Trip and Trip wished it was true.

\---End Flash Back---

T'Pol was in the middle of negotiations with the prevention branch of the planet when Malcolm Reed made his stealthy way into the Captain's ready room where she was talking on the vid with the man in charge of Violations Preventions Office.

She smelled him before she heard him. The man on the vid gasped out a cry of warning unneeded. Malcolm and T'Pol fought hand to hand and T'Pol with larger body and stronger alien bones and muscle held Malcolm still. Held him in a hold he could not escape. The silverware clattered to the carpet and he glared into her eyes.

"I hate you. I wont let you take Trip away from me."

"Your distrust of Trip is what will take him away from you Lieutenant." insisted T'Pol cooly.

Malcolm's eyes filled with tears. "you don't understand. You haven't a heart to know what craving is. You haven't a heart to know what love is. I need him. I love him and you don't care. You're incapable of feelings. You're going to take him away from me. He wont event ouch me but he lets you touch him doesn't he and you get to touch him all you like." He accused angrily. He tried to scratch her or bite her or something other then dangle uselessly from her unbreakable hold on his person.

T'Pol looked at the monitor. "This is the crew member I was telling you about. As you can see he is not well. This is what he has become in only two short weeks Trey'Van's place of enlightened healing. My crewmate is not healed. Instead he is broken. His mind has been tampered with has it not?" she said cold and logic.

Malcolm glared. "I'm not broken. I wasn't tampered with. Don't say that berk's name!" he roared trying to struggle some more. His bones hurt from her hold.

She was in his mind. Her fingers on his skin was letting her know what was on his mind. "Get out of my mind." he screamed.

He tried to kick her but he couldn't move. The "teddy bear" as his second like to call it, a move from the Judo discipline it had another name but he couldn't recall it right now, referred to by its nickname, was a hold that didn't allow for kicking or thumping. He was immobile.

"Fuck'n bitch, get your hands off of me." he growled. Profanity wasn't alien to him after all his father and mother had both been sailors but they had also been well brought up and had brought up their children not to profane while in the company of others and to try not to profane even while alone. But right now a real good curse would be worth it in place of violence if it meant T'Pol would not touch him any more.

He hated being touched. Hated the way Trey'Van had touched him, taken liberties with his person and made him forget things. He hated the way touch reinforced other things that he couldn't....wouldn't open his mind to remembering. He didn't want to think of Trey'Van or of anyone.

Let go! Let GO! He raged, seethed, screamed internally and outwardly. MACOS, Security, and Engineers burst onto the scene.

On Screen the Officer projected his calm onto the room. Forcing both Reed and T'Pol to disengage from one another's minds. Sensing Reed's turmoil and pain. He felt a tear track down his face.

"Calm. You are right, Sub-Commander he has been touched. We will track down the criminal. I must also ask you to please bring your Mr Reed down to the planet as well. We have a clinic for...we have a place of healing for those so wrongly abused. It will take many months for the damage to be reversed. I fear perhaps even our Allie the Betazoids may not have an easy job of undoing what this Trey'Van character has done to him. But we will do all that is in our power to heal Mr Reed. I promise you that."

"There's nothing wrong with me." hissed Reed. "I'm not going back down there. You can't make me go back down there."

Trip looked into Reed's eyes and felt his heart squeeze painfully. Malcolm was terrified. He wouldn't be subjected to their mercies again. He wouldn't. Trip could read Malcolm like a well turned novel. His eyes flickered away from T'Pol and Malcolm and saw the knife on the floor and felt his heart squeeze again.

He was failing in his duty to Mal and to himself, to keep Mal safe from himself and safe to others. Malcolm flinched and looked away guilty as he saw Trip's eyes dance between his own and the knife on the floor.

When next their eyes met Trip' s eyes blazed with fury and determination. "You are going back down there Mal. Even if I have to make it an order. You are going back down there and you are going to go to that damned clinic and you are going to get well, or by God and all that's holy I swear I'll have you up on charges of attempted murder and anything dammed else I can think of. T'Pol get off of him.!" roared Trip.

Malcolm stayed perfectly still and lay on the floor unmoving as T'Pol agile got up and stood on her feet. Malcolm knew he was in trouble major trouble. He may not be exactly in his right mind but he knew at least that much that he was in trouble real trouble. He hadn't seen Trip this angry in a long time, not since Earth was bereft of a few million peoples lives one of them his sister's, not since the shuttle pod, not since, well he wasn't sure when. Trip meant it. Trip was furious with him. He trembled and again he wanted to die. He had never wanted to make Trip this angry.

Trip was going to leave him now for sure.

He could feel it. He'd gone too far this time.

Why didn't Trip understand how far Malcolm would go for him. All Trip had to do was ask and he'd give his life willingly, even his freedom willingly, all Trip had to do was ask it of him, even if it meant going below as long as Trip promised not to leave him; he'd do anything for Trip. Anything.

He wasn't aware of the tears tracking down his cheeks. He heard Trip rage at him and all he could do was blubber. Trip ordered "Get up."

Malcolm couldn't he didn't have the strength to stand up not when Trip was this angry.

"Get up." Trip hissed.

Trip picked him up by his shirt and slammed him into a wall.

"I aint never been this angry before Mal. Aint never in all my life been so angry with anyone before now, not even the Xindi. If I ever get my hands on that Trey'Van son of a bitch I don't know what I'll do but one things for sure Mal, I'm going to make him pay for what he's done to you. Stand up. This aint you. Stand up Mal. Stand up on your own two feet and march. March out of this room and pack your bags, we're going down there and this time, this time I aint letting you out of my sight."

Malcolm cried harder and stumbled as he walked weakly to the door. Trip marching his ass home was embarrassing. The fact that he had almost tried to kill not only T'Pol but himself was pathetic and Trip was angry with him. Even if Trip said it was Try'Van he was really angry with. He knew Trip was angry with him as well.

Angry with him because he had been too weak to stop Trey'Van from doing those things to him. He had been too weak to not go through with killing T'Pol. He had been too weak to not follow through on taking his own life. He was weak because he needed Trip so much and Trip was being sucked dry by Malcolm's weaknesses.

"I'm sorry." he whimpered. "Really sorry."

"I know Mal. I know." said Trip pain creeping into his tone of voice as was exhaustion. He was at the end of his rope and so was Mal.

MACO, Security and Engineers alike looked on with pity. This wasn't their friend. This was a wreck of the person they used to respect.

Would Lt. Reed ever become himself again?


	11. Chapter 11

The ports were being watched. Malcolm felt the certainty of it more keenly than anything other than his love for Trip. He sensed the malevolence directed towards his love. He gave Hayes a severe look and in hand signals gave him the order of taking care of Trip. "Stick to him like a second layer of skin" he signed.

Hayes nodded, "Will do."

The Betazoids were magnificent to behold. They hummed with good vibes, calm vibes, graceful serenity itself. Malcolm sighed as they worked their magic on him. He felt his anxiety quiet little by little as he was greeted kindly and respectfully by his three healers, M'thra'an within their ranks as well though for some reason he did not feel particularly hateful towards them. They felt clean.

He reluctantly took his place in their small group he was quick to give Trip a hug and a swift kiss then scuttled back into the group. The leader smiled indulgently and was careful not to touch Malcolm knowing that touch might set off a series of events that would do more to damage Malcolm's healing as well as ruin the serene mood Malcolm was in at the moment. At the moment Malcolm's mind was absent of stress or pain, he was submerged in their harmony.

"Your Imzadi will be well and waiting for you when you return to him," she said with all gentle confidence.

Malcolm smiled. "I think so. He told me he would be. He promised me he would be."

"That is good. But than again you cannot doubt Imzadi. Imzadi never leave Imzadi."

Malcolm thought that statement over, wondering what exactly Imzadi was, and why she kept calling Trip by that name.

* * *

A stressful couple of weeks went by. Trip was concerned for Malcolm but from Malcolm's phone calls and chatty e-mails Trip let the stress go and this time focused on his missing friend.

Where could John have gone off to? Why hadn't any head-way been made?

T'Pol and the M'thra'an officials were working in a concerted effort now that proof had been brought against Trey'Van and his crimes. Malcolm's pain and the unsettled mind he now had spoke volumes to the M'thra'an. This was a form of rape so appalling, a kind of playing god like game, so terrible that such a crime actually called for death of the very mind of the one who had done the mind-alterations.

"What do you mean by "death of the mind"? Is this a physical death or a metaphysical one?" asked T'Pol fascinated.

The official explained. "This is such a hideous crime we had to create a form of punishment to equal it. Very few know the techniques, because many of us would rather be dead than have our minds dead. But the one who does this crime is not clean. That mind would taint and twist all in our society and therefore he must not be allowed to harmonize with society. All that he touches must be cleaned and purified, we will find the rot and root it out and burn the last hold he has on our peoples. He will not be dead but his mind will be shattered, he will never be able to share mind-touch with another, never be able to feel another mind or others feelings ever again once the death happens. Many of us treat it like a true death because in many ways it is so. We go into a form of decline when our minds are burned out. The body usually follows not long after."

"So, it truly is a death sentence?" asked T'Pol.

"Yes, in all ways that count. We revile killing and are incapable of it. But mind death is not true death, M'thra'an simply decline, the will determines its own death. We do not murder. Though we are capable of self inflicted violence and suicide. Do not pity Trey'Van; his evil brought this on himself. He inflicted the worst crime possible on your crewman and on our people. He is a predator, he is not M'thra'an anymore. He is evil. We pity him but we are resolute in what must be done."

"And his followers?" asked Trip anxiously. "What will happen to them? When yous ay burn out, what do you mean, exactly?"

"Depending on how badly the damage." replied the Official. "Depends on how twisted the mind is that has been left after his evil tampering. I grieve our losses. I pray that there are less that have been cemented to the ways of evil than I fear. I do not wish to see more than Trey'Van face his justice. Because they are truly victims and Trey'Van is perpetrator, carnivore, mind-rapist, mind-controller, all that is evil that we have stood against for centuries. No matter how misguided his intentions he turned to the wrong and when you use wrong to do what you think is right, than it is simply just more wrong. Understand?"

"I think so." murmured Trip, pained.

* * *

Trip's life was in jeopardy.

Trip's first instinct was to rely on Malcolm. Yet he knew that he shouldn't. Malcolm was not stable, and yet, Malcolm's sole goal it seemed of late was to depend on and rely on Trip. He sole concern was for Trip and Trip's welfare. Hayes was doing his best and was a very capable officer but he didn't seem to have the fire that Mal had when it came to a fight, especially fight to protect the man he loved.

Malcolm was a paranoid, low self esteem, doubting-thomas, who had a very good ability at stalking his obsessions as well as dropping in at the unexpected moments. He had a weird knack that way.

Just like now.

Malcolm Reed was not in his uniform but dressed in an off duty pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. He took a bottle of the planet's version of alcohol and lit the cloth wick in its cork. He smiled a truly gleaming somewhat insane smirk.

"Here, have a Molotov on me--its all the therapy I need." Then he threw it with force and accuracy at Trey'Van and his little group of psycho followers.

Archer was stunned. What had happened to his security officer? Malcolm was chortling in delight with every explosion, each one aimed for Trey'Van in particular.

"Remember what we discussed about your anger?" asked a woman gliding up beside Malcolm. She was human looking but with exotic beauty and eyes you could drown in.

"I am letting it out and aiming it at the one directly responsible for it." Insisted Malcolm calmly as if he wasn't tried to kill a group of people.

She sighed. "Violence solves nothing. It has no purpose."

Malcolm did not have the strength to argue with her or to keep his attentions divided between her, Trey'Van, and Trip. Malcolm's eyes though were on his targets and watching Trey'Van step one step too many and too close, he let out a loud growl. "Get away from my Charles!"

Hayes aimed a phaser shot at the cult leader and missed.

"Isn't it enough what you've done to us?" demanded Malcolm, angry. "Don't you think you've done enough damage to mine and my husband's relationship? Haven't you brainwashed him enough already? Get the hell away from him."

Archer gaped. Married? Trip and Malcolm were married? When did this happen? Where had he been while it was going on? He was the Captain, he should have been there. Not to mention he was also Trip's best friend, the least they could have done was made him Trip's groomsman.

Trey'Van's hold on his followers was growing weaker as the other M'thra'an attacked mind to mind, ascertaining the damage inflicted to their own and to the Captain of the _Enterprise_.

Archer was beginning to come to himself. He wasn't a follower any more. He racked his brain and was in shock. What the hell had possessed him to leave his ship and crew? What the hell was going on here? Why was there a fire fight going on? What was happening between Trip and Malcolm?

"They are Imzadi, one cannot be one without the other." said the Betazoid. "Imzadi is rare and valued. They are Gods Blessed," she insisted devoutly. "You will see your own Imzadi one day Captain Archer. I already sense the beginnings of it in you and the one your heart truly loves."

"What is Imzadi?" asked Reed, his attentions diverted back to Emma'lianye Liadrae of the House of Tri'ix.

"Is not easy to explain. There is not a word made to describe it properly. But most simply it is soul-mate. You are two halves of the same soul."

Malcolm smiled. "Makes sense. I never feel more myself than when I'm with Mr. Tucker." He frowned as true memory fought with forced memory. " I mean, my Charles. My husband."

The betazoid gave him a sad loon full of sympathy. "I do not believe you are married to each other Mr Reed. I think your memories are starting to align themselves and correct the imbalance caused to you by Trey'Van's tampering."

Malcolm felt devastated. "But...Yes, sorry, you're right. All that meditating. Its true I feel better but I'm not healed yet. I love Trip though. I ache."

"It is only natural. You both will come to a time when it is right for you to embark on the destiny you have been given, each other. Imzadi is not breakable, it is a bond that transcends even death. Keep hope in your heart and help your Imzadi to heal and one day the two of you will be whole again. This I know to be true."

Malcolm sighed then let another explosive bottle of fire fly. The battle was over in the next moment and Trip was slamming into Malcolm and hugging him tightly to his chest.

"Its good to see you so yourself Malcolm and the Captain! You found the Captain. Thank god!" Trip moved form hugging Malcolm to hugging Jonathan Archer, a brother to him in his heart. "Thank God you're alright Jonny. We were all so worried for you. Where have you been? What's been going on with you while you were away from us?"

"To tell you the truth Trip, its all a little blurry."

"Let's get you to Phlox." insisted Trip, anxiety suffusing his being again.

Malcolm sighed again. Trip turned to him and quickly took his hand in his, he looked deeply into Malcolm's eyes, it was a look filled with promise and commitment, it was a dead serious look in his eye. Malcolm's heart triple timed its beats. He thought his heart might beat itself out of his chest.

Trip loves me.

It finally sank in.

Trip loves me.

The madness was passing but it would be a while before Malcolm could go back on duty. It would be another three months of intense therapy before Malcolm was more Malcolm again, before he was finally in control of his body and mind, and had his real memories and made peace with the false ones.

Imzadi, a whispered thought, a caress of love that infused both Trip and Malcolm and cemented the bond. Trip had less sensitivity to telepathy than Malcolm but what tiny little spark of it he had was open only to Malcolm just as Malcolm's mind was open to his through sheer will. Malcolm's talent was stronger than expected.

The Betazoids wanted to go to earth and search out more empathy, telepaths like Malcolm so they could help them cultivate the talent and help such talented to learn control and defense as Malcolm was now learning. However the Vulcans were known to the Betazoid and the Betazoids were not comfortable with a cold people like the Vulcans and they believed in keeping the treaties they had signed so they would wait a long time more before opening lines of trade or communication with the Humans from the planet known as Earth and Terra. The Vulcans were cultivating this young race of being but the Betazoids were patient and knew that the Humans could not be tamed. They were too passionate for the Vulcans to control. A people worthy of getting to know eventually.


End file.
